


hope and despair

by fallfrovmgrace



Series: i love you (kaylor one shots) [9]
Category: Karlie Kloss (Model), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Airplane Crashes, Angst, Disasters, Emotional Roller Coaster, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 23:00:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20182126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallfrovmgrace/pseuds/fallfrovmgrace
Summary: "Ben, this is not the time," I said with that stupid high voice I used with my felines. The sitting cat suddenly sat up, raising his tail and meowing once again. He rubbed his back against my calf, and I internally grew sad when I realized that I hadn't felt his touch at all since he had touched my prosthesis. Karlie must have noticed it, as she suddenly detached from my body and bent down."Are you hungry, little boy?"She petted his soft white fur, a rather loud purr echoing between us. When my girlfriend looked up at me and smiled faintly, she reached for my hand and squeezed it gently, as if to say, it will get better, I promise.And that was enough to make all the bad thoughts go away from my mind.Sequel of When Everything Falls Apart.





	hope and despair

**Author's Note:**

> The sequel for when everything falls apart is finally here! I've worked on this for months, and I'm really attached to this plot. I really hope you will like this part two, which is the final part. This is another emotional roller coaster, so prepare tissues and get ready to cry, but also bring a bible because there's also some sin in this.
> 
> Enjoy! And please don't forget to vote and/or comment! It means the world to me.

_27 April, 2019_

  
Step, deep breath. Another step, another deep breath.

Every time my eyes glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall opposite me, my knee hurt. Memories stained with fright and darkness flashed before my mind, the bitter and iron taste of warm blood still lingering on my tongue after eight long months. The wooden bar underneath my grip disappeared, and instead I felt damp grass and dirty soil, foreign screams echoing inside my ears. Doctors had said that the worst part about my accident wasn't the physiotherapy, it was getting used to the new reality; that is, living without a person that wasn't there anymore, and getting used to the feeling of plastic underneath my knee. They had said that I, as well as Karlie and all the other people involved in the plane crash, were going to be haunted by grief and guilt for the rest of our lives. We were going to be haunted with the fear of getting on a plane, with nightmares replaying what we had lived.

Both Karlie and I went to therapy, both of us dealing with our own demons and scars. And although our relationship was fresh and delicate, at the very beginning of its nature, we had decided that it was best if we lived together. Having her there with me had kept me grounded in more than one situation, and I was glad that I did not lose her that day that now seemed so far away from our grasp.

"You're doing an amazing job, Taylor,"

My physiotherapist kept encouraging me, standing beside the bars that were holding me up and smiling brightly at me. It was late in the evening, and I've been here for hours, the sweat lining my forehead and marking my large sweatshirt underlining my hard work. My arms trembled, as I tried to walk without the help of the bars; even though it's been months, I _still _couldn't walk without a cane. Well, my doctor said that it was normal, even though I technically could walk without any help, but that would mean getting tired easily. Therefore, for months, I've tried to strengthen the muscles of my thighs with physical therapy, walking every morning, and helping myself with the treadmill. Karlie has been super supportive of my little progress, sometimes carrying me up the stairs when I was too tired to do them myself. She was a gentlewoman, and I loved her for that. She was always making sure that I was okay, or comfortable, or not feeling any sort of pain, and usually, that meant putting my needs before hers.

"Can we stop for today? I'm tired," I sighed, plopping down on the hospital bed when I finally reached it. Doctor Myers nodded faintly, telling me that I could go home and that he would see me the day after tomorrow, before exiting the room along with the physiotherapist. In the loneliness of the grey, modern and spacious hospital chamber, I looked down at my right leg. I kneaded the skin of my thigh, letting out a low moan when pain went up towards my back. I took off the prosthesis, feeling relieved when cool air touched my stump. Before I could get swamped with memories of the plane crush, my phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

"Hey, babe, how was physiotherapy?"

The pet name made me blush, and I replied happily. "It was okay, I guess. Just—little bit tired, that's all. How was your day?"

"Pretty good, actually," Karlie laughed airily. "I visited my mom and my sisters today."

"That's nice," I smiled lovingly, staring at the ground and imagining the little smile upturning her thin lips. "How are they doing? Are Kimberly and Karrian alright?"

"Yeah," she started quietly. "Kimby actually told me that she got on a plane recently."

My ears perked up at the new information. "Really?"

"Yeah. She said that it was difficult, but she did it anyway. She told me that when she landed safely, she literally cried tears of joy and everyone stared at her as if she were a psychopath," Karlie chuckled, and I joined in with a quiet laughter of my own. It was good; hearing one of the victim's progress. The plane was still something that scared both me and Karlie, and we were both trying our best to get on one as soon as possible and overcome the fear.

"I'm proud of her," I admitted quietly, playing with the string of my pants. "We should go and visit your family sometimes,"

She paused. "Sure, I would love to."

"I, uh—I'm coming _home _now, is that okay? I finished early today becaus—,"

"Love, you don't need to worry. You can come whenever you want, we live in _your _apartment, remember?" she laughed.

Embarrassed, I put the palm of my hand on my face and covered myself even though there was no one inside the room with me. "Yeah, yeah," I mumbled. "See you later, Kar."

"Alright!"

She was the one to hang up, and when the line fell silent and the ghost of her voice lingered in the air, I felt myself smiling like an idiot, my lips widening until my cheeks hurt too much. With determination, I put on my prosthesis, the feeling of falling in love covering my body from the outside world and all the horrible things as I walked back home.

Entering the apartment, the smell of dinner and cinnamon greeted me as soon as I stepped inside, along with the new addition to my cat family. Slightly limping, I bent down and picked up Benjamin, cradling him lovingly as I yelled lightly, "Kar, I'm home!"

The lanky, long legged, beautiful model that I proudly called my girlfriend walked in the hall, an adorable azure apron wrapped around her waist. Momentarily, the color reminded me of the sky that had been above us when we had been trapped in the woods, but the thought slipped away as soon as her lips kissed my forehead. Her hand rested on the fabric of my pants, gently rubbing the exposed patch of skin of my hip. I cuddled her neck, kissing it softly and earning a low mumble from her part.

When Benjamin started wiggling in my arms, I let him go and properly greeted my girlfriend as I wrapped my arms around her neck and hugged her tightly. Karlie placed the cane against the wall, her own thin, muscular arms coming around my back to hold me up as she nuzzled her nose in my hair. I smelled her shampoo, and closing my eyes I saw nothing but the most beautiful moments that we've spent together over the years.

No words were exchanged, until I got restless and needed to feel her closer.

I slightly pulled away from our embrace, only to let my hands dangle from her shoulder and kiss her gently. It was romantic and light at first, until I felt the grip around my waist tighten and I accidentally slipped my tongue past her lips. A low moan echoed between us, as I run my hands through her blonde hair and tugged them lightly.

Karlie and I had never had sex; after the plane crash, with all the post-traumatic stress and the insecurity that the stump had left me with, I couldn't help but stop whenever things got heated. It was always like this; lots of impromptu make out sessions that simply led to nothing but a racing heart and staggering breath. I didn't know if Karlie was disappointed or, as she said, understood my wishes. I could tell that she was on edge whenever I wore too little clothes, and the lust swimming between her irises wasn't easy to ignore.

When we pulled away, she sank her teeth in the plump, rosy skin of my bottom lip, and tugged gently and teasingly, earning a rather impatient moan from me.

My eyes stayed closed for a moment, before I opened them and saw the dazed look on Karlie's face; her lips slightly parted and a dreamy longing flying within her eyes.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, chuckling nervously. "Are you okay?"

My girlfriend stroked the side of my face, and I tried to memorize the look in her eyes as I waited for her response.

"Yeah, I just—I feel _so _lucky, you know?" she timidly laughed, her gaze not meeting mine as she began to play with a strand of my blonde hair. I tilted my head, curiously looking up at her. The arm around my back got tighter as she smiled down at me.

My hands against her chest, I asked, "What do you mean?"

"I—I could have lost you eight months ago," she replied, and I realized that I wasn't the only one keeping tracks of how many days were moving us away from that accident. "I think that—if that plane crash hadn't happened, I probably would still be with Josh, and I would have kept repressing all of my feelings for you. I don't know—that accident wasn't a good thing since, you know, you lost Abigail and a leg and we're still traumatized, although we're healing. But I just feel lucky, you know? It could have gone worse. I could have lost you, I would have been alone, but instead you're alive, and I'm just glad that we're alive _together._"

The words of the woman in front of me rendered me speechless, as I suddenly forgot how to speak. The only thing I could do was stare at her, until I felt the sudden urge to close the gap and translate the overwhelming emotions inside of me through the desperate movements of my lips. She accepted the passionate kiss, as her hands gently cupped my cheeks as if I were made of glass and she was afraid of breaking me.

We kissed, until one of my cats had to meow loudly and interrupt us prematurely. We chuckled against each other, both of our eyes meeting the blue ones of my cat.

"Ben, this is not the time," I said with that stupid high voice I used with my felines. The sitting cat suddenly sat up, raising his tail and meowing once again. He rubbed his back against my calf, and I internally grew sad when I realized that I hadn't felt his touch at all since he had touched my prosthesis. Karlie must have noticed it, as she suddenly detached from my body and bent down.

"Are you hungry, little boy?"

She petted his soft white fur, a rather loud purr echoing between us. When my girlfriend looked up at me and smiled faintly, she reached for my hand and squeezed it gently, as if to say, _it will get better, I promise_.

And that was enough to make all the bad thoughts go away from my mind.  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Eight months before_  
_25 August, 2018_

  
"You literally serenated her! If you don't confess your love for her, I swear to God, Taylor—,"

"Abi, please," I sighed, although it came out as a desperate laugh. "I didn't serenate her, and you know that."

"You literally told me that you broke up with Joe because you have feelings for Karlie, and you mean to tell me," my best friend moved closer and pointed a daring finger at me, a teasing glint sparkling inside her gaze. "—that _Dress, _and _Dancing With Our Hands Tied_, and _Don't Blame Me _and _Gorgeous _and...what did I miss? —Oh, I know! The entire concert! You mean to tell me that this entire concert wasn't for her?"

I shook my head, a blush creeping up my cheeks. "Abi, she has a _fiancé_, I can't just go up to her and say—Oh, hey, Karlie, um, did you know that I have feelings for you?" I mocked my own voice as Abigail, standing in front of me, crossed her arms across her chest and pursed her lips. "I can't just do that, Abi. I know that you would _die _to see us get together, but it's not happening. We're never going to be together that way,"

"You hope, though,"

"Uh?"

Abigail smiled. "You hope that, maybe someday, you will be together that way, right?"

I looked at her, and I couldn't lie. Not to my best friend, who was able to see right through all of my lies. "All the time."

Abigail shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "When I met Karlie, I was really sure that she was going to be the one for you, you know? I just—she made you happy, and you _were _happy. Don't know if you've noticed, but I like seeing you happy."

I narrowed my eyes at her, not expecting such an emotional conversation with her. "Is this your way of saying that you love me?"

Abigail smiled brightly. "If you want to see it that way."

We chuckled together, and I couldn't help but pull her in a hug. She expressed in a whisper how proud of me she was, and I squeezed her a little bit tighter, as if this was going to be the last hug with her.

And then, before pulling away from her, with eyes closed happily and a big, tight lipped smile on my face, I said, "I love you, too."  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Eight months later_  
_5 May, 2019_

  
The first needle that made our bubble burst happened on a Sunday evening.

It was a simple disagreement, nothing more than that, but it escalated as soon as one of us rolled their eyes to the ceiling and scoffed. I was sitting on the sofa, lazily lounging and answering to work emails. Karlie had to go out and meet some of our mutual friends, but initially, I had to go with her. However, when I realized that I didn't have nor an outfit nor a decent pair of shoes that wasn't tennis shoes, I refused and took a step back. My girlfriend had understood, my friends had understood, but as I watched her hesitate, linger on the doorstep of the living room and pretending to check that she had everything with her, I knew that she was going to bring my decision up.

"Are you really sure you don't want to come along?"

I sighed, glancing at her with an annoyed gaze. "Karlie, we talked about this, come on,"

"Yes, I know but—," she took a deep breath, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. With my peripheral vision I saw her stare at me with parted lips, a pensive look dancing across her face as I once again began typing on the laptop. It was tense, awkward, as I let the silence answer for me. We had talked about _this_. "Can't you just—," she started, sounding frustrated. "—just force yourself to come? It's the first time since we can _all _get together since New Year's day, and you're wasting it by staying on that damn sofa!"

The harshness of her voice caught my interest, as I looked up with wide eyes. She didn't seem to regret her statement, as she only stared back at me with bigger eyes, shoulders raised as if they were in the middle of an exasperated shrug. With narrowed eyes, I closed the laptop and let my hand rest on top of it. I stared at the end of my body, feeling guilty as I saw only one foot instead of two. If I were too lazy to go outside, it was because of all of this.

"I'm sorry if I'm such a burden," I muttered darkly. "—but I don't want to go out, alright? Is that too hard to comprehend? I _don't _want to go _out_. And, look at you—," I aggressively pointed at her outfit; an elegant, tight black dress, showcasing the perfection of her infinite legs. Just looking at them hurt. "I don't have something like that! You'll be all elegant, and what do I wear, uh? Sweatpants and a t-shirt while you all drink an expensive white wine at a restaurant for rich people? I don't—," I sighed, sucking my top lip between my lips as I crossed my arms across my chest. "I don't want to come. Just accept that, please,"

"You _could _dress up and look nice, you know? Doctor Myers has even said that they can make prosthesis that you can wear with heels!" she reasoned, as if the solution to this problem was that simple.

"You don't understand, do you?"

Karlie scoffed and rolled her eyes, shook her head and shifted her weight. "And you are being dramatic."

"I am dramatic?!" I exclaimed, feeling hurt at her words. "I'm not, and you have to understand that I don't. Want. To go. Out."

Karlie paced back and forth the living room, picking her purse and playing with its edge. "I really can't talk to you when you're like this," she muttered quietly, perhaps hoping that I wouldn't hear her. But instead, I heard her clearly.

"Like what?"

Karlie suddenly turned around with furious eyes, and I had never seen her so mad. "Like you can't go out because of that leg! Everything depends on that stupid leg, and I would like to just be able to spend a nice night out with you and my friends, but I can't do that because of that leg! Hell, I can't even have sex with you because of that stupid leg!"

A thick silence fell upon us, but the reality and cruelty of her words still lingered in the air. I tore my gaze away, unable to look at her in that moment. Meredith, who was sleeping beneath the coffee table, seemed to realize the gravity of the situation, and quietly run away from the living room. I was ashamed, to feel tears prick at my eyes. I swallowed my sorrow, having felt so loved by the person who had just spoke all of those venom filled words. Perhaps, the worst part about this argument, was when she didn't even apologize. She seemed to not regret what she had said, and that made me realize how much she meant them.

When a lone tear streamed down my right cheek, right under the light coming from the ceiling, I quickly and embarrassedly rubbed the skin and dried my sadness. I didn't utter a word as the stump began to hurt, an incredible amount of guilt making it almost impossible to breathe. With all of myself, I hoped that she would take back all of that, say that she didn't mean it, and that she was incredibly sorry. But I knew that she wouldn't. If we didn't go out often, it was because of me and my stupid insecurity. If we didn't have sex, it was because of me. Everything was my fault, and I was surprised that Karlie still wanted to be with me and deal with my crap.

"I, uh—," her voice was hoarse, as she looked down at the ground. I didn't look back when she quietly said, "I've got to go, or I'll be late,"

She seemed to hesitate, but then she was out of the door before I could stop her and ask her if we could talk about it.

Guilt was the only thing that kept me company that night, along with the salty taste of tears.  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_The day after_  
_6 May, 2019_

  
When Karlie came back from the outing with our mutual friends, she looked like a dog with their tail trapped between their legs, guilt written all over her face. I hadn't had the chance to look at myself, but I could tell from her expression that I didn't look as good as I hoped, after a whole night spent crying like an angry baby. The tears had stopped sometime during dinner, when I had no more of them left to cry. But as soon as she stepped inside the bedroom, quietly, perhaps thinking that I was already asleep since it was two in the morning, they came back like the strongest force of nature. The small lamp on my night stand was still on, a few used tissues were sprawled around it, and the first thing I did as soon as I saw her figure enter the room was stand up and pick my cane, even though I didn't have my prosthesis on. During my alone time, I had angrily thrown it across the living room, because at the end of the day, all of my problems were because of that stupid plastic leg that I had to wear because I didn't have a leg that was made of flesh. I had broken it, and although I _did _have another one, I couldn't bring myself to put on that stupid thing that prevented me from being myself around others.

I limped across the room, the tears streaming down my face making my eyes burn even more as I grasped everything around me in order to not fall on the ground like a sack of potatoes. I heard her mumble something, perhaps my name, but I couldn't hear anything. All I wanted were her arms around me, nothing more.

I saw her make her way towards me, dropping her purse to the ground as if all that mattered in that moment was me. In the dim lighting of the bedroom, we met halfway, her muscular arms wrapping around my lower back and holding me up, as I let go of the cane and instead gripped the patch of skin where her neck met with her shoulders. I let out an embarrassedly loud sob, my fingers grasping her body as if it were my only salvation in this falling world. I was aware of the fact that I was sweaty, that my pink shorts were ugly and that my hair was a mess, but still, she held me against her body and provided me a sense of stability, a sense of comfort and safety that I had longed for the whole night.

There were no words exchanged between us, just me crying my eyes out and her keeping her arms around me. I wanted to say how sorry I felt, how stupid I was for not trying harder and going out with her, but she seemed to understand whatever I wanted to say, because she put her lips against my ear and shushed all my demons away.

When I wrapped my arms around her long neck, she easily raised my figure and took me to bed. She sat on the edge of the mattress, placing my weight on her lap and beginning to sway back and forth as if I were really a baby.

"I'm sorry," I choked on my own words, my sobs slicing my apology in half. Her hand came up to stroke my cheeks, her touch gentle as she caressed my whole face with her soft gaze. "I'm so sorry,"

"Don't," she whispered, placed her lips onto my forehead and kissed my skin, putting all my worries to sleep. The grip I had around her neck was tight, as if I were afraid to let her go and realize that all of this was just a dream. That she hadn't come back to me.

"I'm sorry that I don't have a leg,"

Karlie chuckled against me, pulling away just slightly and saying, "It's not your fault, alright? All of this is not your fault."

She kept reassuring me that it wasn't my fault, that all that had happened to us wasn't my fault, and perhaps believing her, even for little time, was for the best. I let her words of comfort chase away all my concerns, and ten minutes later, when the number two on the clock turned into number three, my sobs had become light sniffles, my shoulders not shaking anymore and my eyes dry. She wiped away the last of my tears with her thumb, tracing my skin as if she were making sure that there were no more layers of sadness on my face.

Karlie pushed me on the mattress, my head resting on top of the pillow and my body lying on my side. She mimicked my position, and she pulled me closer, our heads now a few inches apart. The ticking of the clock was the only sound in the room, apart from her calm breathing and my slightly shaking one.

"I didn't mean those words," she quietly whispered. The fingers resting on my waist began to move in a familiar and comforting pattern, slipping beneath the fabric of my shirt and touching hot skin. "I was frustrated, and I guess—I said those words to hurt you, because I was angry at—just everything. But I didn't mean them. I swear that I didn't mean them,"

Karlie's words made my bottom lip tremble, but in order to not let her notice, I cupped her cheek and kissed her softly. She hugged me close, her legs encasing mine, and my fingers lightly scraped the skin of her face as I tilted my head so as to peck her cheek.

"I forgive you," I whispered in her ear. She tightened her hold around my waist, and she instinctively pulled me on top of her body. "I will try harder, I swear I will go out with you more. I will—I will have sex with you, now if you want, but I swear I will do better. I'm sorry if I've been such a burden, I didn't want you to feel like I was a weight on your shoulders. I didn't want you to stop yourself from doing things just because I was forcing myself to stay at home. I'm sorry, I—,"

"Baby, it's okay," she interrupted me. She held my face in her big hands, and let her thumbs caress my cheeks. "It's okay. I really don't care if we go out or not. And I really don't care if we have sex or not. That's not what matters. All that matters is you. I want you to be happy and healthy. And if not going out makes you happy, then that's what we will do. I don't want to force you into something you don't want to do, alright?"

I nodded, and kissed her. "I love you," I whispered against her skin, when I pulled her in an intimate embrace and buried my face into the crook of her neck. "I don't know what I did to be worthy of your love."

Karlie smiled, as if the answer was obvious. "You _looked _at me. You didn't just _see _me, you _looked _at me."  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Two weeks later_  
_18 May, 2019_

  
"You're doing amazing, look at you go,"

I was walking. Literally walking; without my cane, without struggling. I was walking, and if it wasn't for my shorts, nobody would tell that I was wearing a prosthesis on my right leg. Seeing my reflection on the mirror was nice; there was an actual, genuine smile on my face, and my walk was smooth, more natural, and not as if I were a robot. I was walking. Normally. And Doctor Myers had even said that I could be able to run at the end of this month. I hadn't understood if he had been joking or if he had been serious, but a part of me hoped that what he had said would turn out to be true. Suddenly walking without a cane made me feel powerful, as if nothing else mattered in that moment, and I had to swallow the incredible urge I had; I wanted to run. I wanted to feel the wind hit my face. I wanted to feel my heart pick up the pace, I wanted to feel the sweat trickle down my forehead. Hell, I wanted to go and run with my girlfriend in the morning, and not because I wanted to keep her company, but because I wanted to run _beside _her and finally work out with her again. It's been a while since we've exercised together, and I missed those fun times. I missed _being _with her, what we had before all of this.

Sometimes, I just wish I could turn back time, go back to that night of August and decide not to leave Nashville at all. I just wish I could go back to when me and Karlie were younger, when we had just discovered the fantastic friendship that had born between us.

When I went back home after the physiotherapy, I was happy. When a paparazzi took a photo of me, I smiled, because I was happy, and I finally didn't mind being pictured while wearing my prosthesis.

Everything was nice. Everything finally felt like it was back to normal, and Karlie noticed my delighted mood as soon as I stepped inside the apartment, the bright setting sun shining behind my back.

"Hello?" her voice was playful, as she greeted me with a peck on the cheek and a light squeeze to my waist. "You're particularly happy today,"

I smiled brightly. "I walked without my cane today."

"Really?" her eyes widened, and the jade inside of them made me weak in the knees. "I'm so proud of you, and of every achievement you make."

"Thank you," I kissed her cheek and hugged her tightly. She smelled of roses and of an expensive perfume, and I let myself get dizzy. "Myers said that I could be able to run by the end of this month."

"No way," Karlie laughed. "I can't wait to see you run again."

I guess that both of our minds went back to that last evening we had shared at Big Sur, five years ago, during our first road trip. The sun had been setting, and she had decided to chase me after I had given her a daisy and had tucked it between her ear and temple. We had been running then, and we were so carefree, without any weight on our shoulders. No concerns, no worries. We were just happy and free, with our laughs mingling together and filling the empty beach.

I kissed her, remembering how beautiful she was, even then, with her short brunette hair flying carelessly in the wind. "I want to go out tonight," I whispered against her lips.

"Where do you want to go, baby?" she asked just as quietly, as she wrapped her arms around my hips, pulling me closer, and I circled her neck with my hands grasping her shoulders.

"I want to take you out on a date. Dress nicely and drink an expensive glass of wine in front of a candle lit dinner," I proposed, smiling when I noticed the slight curious glint within her eyes. She almost looked surprised by my sudden proposal, but she hid her mild astonishment by cupping my chin with her fingers and kissing me gently.

We spent the following hours preparing ourselves for the date, and for the first time in a while, as the tight black dress lied on top of the white sheets of our bed, I felt nervous butterflies begin to fly all over my stomach. I wanted to look good for her. I wanted to let myself go tonight, and I wanted tonight to be our _special _night; I wanted to make love to her. And the only thought of that made me incredibly anxious, because there was nothing sexy about my appearance. There was nothing sexy in my plastic leg, but I hoped that the vulnerability of the moment would compensate for it.

We arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early, and as the gentlewoman as she was, she pulled out the chair for me and told me how gorgeous I was. The dress I was wearing grazed my knees, and the prosthesis I was sporting had been designed to go with heels. It wasn't obvious, although for the whole night, I was frustrated that I couldn't feel Karlie's leg against mine, as we entangled them under the table. We intertwined our fingers, her thumb rubbing against the back of my hand in a reassuring movement; of course she could tell I was nervous. Of course she could sense the anxiety rolling off of my body in waves.

"Tay, it's going to be okay. Relax," she quietly chuckled, when the waitress placed our food on the table before walking away.

"I'll try."

For the whole duration of our dinner, I was once again reminded of all the reasons why I fell in love with Karlie. She made me laugh, she made sure that I was always comfortable, and even though I kept saying that I was a mess, she answered by kissing my knuckles and proudly telling me that I was _her _mess. When the food was finally finished and our tummies were full, she paid and held my hand as we went back to my apartment. The restaurant wasn't far from my place, it was a ten minute walk, but she kept glancing at me and at my leg because I was wearing heels for the first time in eight months, and she didn't want me to tire myself too much.

We reached the building when the clock struck to midnight and the only sound outside was the soft warm breeze of May. Karlie looked like she was ready to go to bed, although there was a hopeful glint inside her eyes as soon as I took her hand and dragged her to my bedroom. As I closed the door behind me, I couldn't deny the nervous butterflies flying around my stomach as I noticed the lust swimming inside her eyes. I turned on just a lamp, making the atmosphere intimate and tender as I approached her. My heart thumped against my ribcage as I cupped her cheeks and shyly kissed her. She held me by the hips, and before we could deepen the kiss, I said, "I want to make love to you,"

Karlie didn't react, she just caressed my face and whispered, "Turn around."

I guess, the confusion all over my face made her smile, because then she asked me, "Do you trust me?"

I was only able to nod, because I didn't trust my voice.

"Turn around,"

Her voice was gentle and not demanding, assuring me that we had all the time in the world. Therefore, although a bit hesitantly, I turned my back towards her, and the next thing I heard was the zipper of my dress sliding down. I bit my lip in order to block the whimper that wanted to get out of my mouth, and felt Karlie's mouth create a wet trail of kisses up the side of my neck. I blushed, deeply, when seeing my dress pool around my ankles, conscious of the fact that Karlie could notice my prosthesis. I was only wearing lacy underwear underneath, and when she urged me to turn around, I couldn't meet her eyes.

"Darling," she called. She tilted my chin upwards with two fingers, and kissed me gently as her other hand rested against my bare hip. "I love you."

The ghost of a smile graced my lips, and she gently pushed me towards the side of the bed. I sat down, and I felt arousal ruin my underwear at the sight of my girlfriend kneeling before me. Karlie took off her dress, perhaps to make me feel less alone, and placed her warm hands against my knees. I shuddered, let out a silent gasp as she kissed my outer thigh. I placed my hands against the mattress, swallowing hard as I grasped some of the sheets underneath my palms.

Karlie never averted her eyes from me, apart from when she placed both of her hands on the sides of my prosthesis and slowly took it off. She gently placed it beside the bed, and immediately put her lips against my stump. The sensation almost sent me over the edge, and I tried to keep it together, since we haven't even started yet. I closed my eyes and bit my lip, my breath shallow and heavy.

Then she kissed my abdomen, and it made me involuntarily buck my hips upwards. I blushed at how eager I was, but then she gently pecked my lips and whispered against my ear, "Can I?"

Her fingers were holding the sides of my underwear, ready to take it off, and I quickly nodded, swallowing again and noticing just then how dry my throat actually was.

When the cool air hit my intimate part, I took a deep breath and looked at the window in front of me. I watched Karlie watch me, as her lips started kissing and nipping my inner thighs, slowly, teasingly. It was slightly cruel, but I loved it. And I loved it even more when I felt her tongue finally connect with my center. The gasp I let out was slightly louder than before, and I unconsciously spread my legs to give her more room. I felt a burning sensation float inside my abdomen, a tight rope of pleasure wrapped around my stomach as it held me hostage.

She was gentle, with both her mouth and tongue, and just when she reached my folds did I let out a breathy moan and lifted my hips towards her. Karlie gripped my right thigh, as I wrapped the other leg around her neck and possessively kept her in place, afraid that she would stop soon.

My mind suddenly went blank when her fingers joined, touching me as if I was the most delicate flower in the world. I admit that I'm not that quiet in bed, so when she noticed what I liked, she kept focusing on the spots that made me moan the loudest.

When her lips closed around my clit and her fingers set a slow but deep pace thrusting inside of me, I threw my head back and moaned, clutching with one hand the sheets beneath me and tangling the other in her hair, pushing her more against me.

"_Shit_, don't stop," I found myself begging. I met every thrust of her fingers with my hips, the sensation rendering me dizzy as her eyes found mine. "Kar, I'm—_fuck_, I'm about to—," but my body was quicker than my brain, as I finally got to my high. I wasn't even embarrassed when all I did was let out the loudest moan and tug her hair almost painfully. But Karlie gently helped me come down, kissing softly my thighs and finally pecking my cheeks. She made me lie down against the mattress, with my head on my pillow and her face above me, as everything around me seemed blurry.

The weight of her body on top of me was the best thing I've ever felt, and the kisses on my neck almost lulled me to sleep. Her arms held me protectively, and I wrapped mine around her back.

"That was—probably the best sex I've ever had," I chuckled.

She giggled against my ear. "Well, you're welcome."

We kissed like two young kids in love. "What about you..." I whispered between pecks. I felt Karlie's rapid heartbeat against my chest, as if the heart that I was feeling wasn't hers but mine. It was obvious that she desperately needed a release; her jade green eyes were nothing but lust, she whimpered whenever my hands touched lower than her chest. I couldn't blame her for being so turned on; we've basically waited five months before doing anything together. Plus, all the make out sessions couldn't have helped either.

"I'm okay, don't worry about me," her voice was trembling, and the chuckle that escaped from her parted mouth was terribly needy. I didn't believe her, therefore, even though I was extremely tired from our strenuous activity, I rolled us over, claiming my spot on top. She didn't try to stop me, but just stared at me as she was now the one with the back against the mattress. In a fit of bravery, I reached over my back and unhooked my bra, lying fully naked against her torso as I began kissing her. My cheeks were flaming, because let's be honest, it's been a while since I've showed my whole body to someone else. After the plane crash, and all the damages that it had left to my body, I was really insecure about my appearance. I had lost weight, somehow my face looked older, and, obviously, the ugly stump that left me with only one leg. Nothing about me was sexy, but when Karlie pulled away from our heated kiss, she pushed my shoulders just to see the new patch of skin that had been exposed, and stared. But she didn't stare in a cruel, judgmental way; no, her eyes roamed over my chest and abdomen, and they _sparkled _with awe. They had nothing but love, desire, and happiness.

"You're _so _beautiful."

And she sounded _damn _honest, that I believed her.

After that, I kissed her senselessly and tried to straddle her waist. She moaned in my mouth, when feeling the warm spot between my legs rest on her abdomen. I let my fingers tangle in her hair, and dragged her up with me as I sat on her lap. My hand immediately undid her bra, and I threw it carelessly behind me. She laughed, probably noticing how eager I was to return the favor. I smirked against her lips, and pushed her against the sheets. My mouth found its way downwards, teasing the skin of her jaw, neck and collarbones with my tongue and teeth. I left a mark at the base of her neck, and she whimpered.

"I want you _so _much,"

Her voice quivered, and I was surprised to hear that. For months, I spent them believing that she didn't want me. My insecurity told me that no one would want to be intimate with me ever again, but hearing her voice tremble with desire, just because I wasn't going as fast as she wanted me to be, made me groan against her skin and attack her breasts. One of my hands teased one nipple, while my other kept company to the other. I could hold her entire breast with my hand, and I couldn't help but moan at how our bodies fit together as if it was meant to be.

I moved quickly, almost being as impatient as she was, and trailed a path of wet kisses down her abs. I reached her legs, and kissed her from her knees up to her inner thighs. I didn't waste any more time, finally licking her center and holding down her hips with both of my hands. I heard Karlie moan, and I saw her arch her back. I reached for one of her hands, and grasped it when I finally found it. Karlie gripped the sheets beneath her, and kept biting her lip.

She didn't last long, but when she finally reached her well-deserved high, our moans mingled together, because _God_, I've never tasted anything more sweet.

"That was—_wow_,"

I kissed all of her body as I faced her once again. Our legs tangled, and I giggled at her dazed expression.

"Did I break you?" I chuckled.

"Shut up," Karlie giggled. "You're the one that almost woke the neighbors up,"

My cheeks immediately flamed red, but I couldn't even be embarrassed about it. "I'm sorry. I want to let my partner know when they're doing a _very good _job."

Now, _she _was the one to blush deeply. "Is that a compliment?"

I pecked her lips. "Maybe."  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Eight months before_  
_13 September, 2018_

  
When I woke up today, the sky was grey and clouded. The air was cold and stinging. And the reality—well, it was cruel and painful. Today they would bury my childhood best friend, my beautiful red haired partner in crime, my person; today, they would bury Abigail. Today, it was Abigail's funeral.

Not having a prosthesis, I still had to sit on a wheel chair, and Karlie was the one that wanted to wheel me. I wore a black outfit, sporting a dark skirt since I didn't have any pants that suited my new situation. Karlie's outfit was simple, similar to mine, but what could one wear when they were going to a funeral?

The silence in the car that accompanied us to the cemetery was thick and somber, my gaze lost and my hand gripping Karlie's. Her thumb tracing small invisible circles on the back of my hand was the only thing that was able to ground me. I didn't know if I was _truly _ready to witness what was about to happen. I had imagined this moment, this funeral, to happen when I would have grey hair and I could no longer sing. I imagined myself old and ugly and smelly, not young and beautiful and blooming like a flower. Karlie and I had yet to utter a word, but I knew that if we spoke, if we addressed the situation, I would probably break down crying. I was already refraining myself, continuously swallowing the lump in my throat and thinking about positive things. But there weren't positive things. I didn't have a leg. My best friend was dead. A plane had crashed, and multiple people had been injured or traumatized. How could I think about positivity when I was literally surrounded by darkness and gloom?

"We're here, Miss Swift,"

The bodyguard's voice finally broke the ice, and I slowly turned to look out the tinted windows. There were already a lot of people, and I spotted familiar faces, including Selena, Tree, my mother, and Matt. I took a deep breath when my eyes landed upon Abigail's husband, who was already dabbing at teary eyes and fixing his black tie.

Karlie got out first, helping me sit on the wheel chair and pushing it towards the entrance of the cemetery. The funeral had yet to begin, but I was glad to hug the people that I loved the most. I think that I started crying as soon as I tightly hugged Matt, his words whispered against my ear, "Thank you so much for coming. I'm _glad _you're here."

I couldn't speak. But Karlie's hands on my shoulder gave me enough strength to nod and smile at him. It was weak, and not at all beautiful, but the man smiled back at me.

When the funeral began, we all gathered around the grave where they would soon lower Abigail. I was crying silent tears, the lump in my throat tightening whenever I heard a person sob. Karlie was standing behind me, her hand always reminding me that she was there for me. Selena was right beside me, and my mother was right beside Karlie. I held in all of my emotions, all of my sorrow and pain, until they finally lowered Abigail's body in her grave. Seeing everyone stand, with their heads slightly lowered, made me cry harder, because it was then that I noticed that I was the only one sitting. It was then that it hit me, hard, that I couldn't stand for my best friend because I wasn't _able to._ It was then that my sobs became louder, and made everyone notice how hard this was for me.

I heard Karlie cry behind me, and I reached for her hand over my shoulder as I cried like a toddler. I lowered my head, unable to witness more, and sobbed. I sobbed until the funeral finally came to an end, and I sobbed when Karlie knelt before me and held me in her arms.

I couldn't breathe, but Karlie's arms around me helped, as she rubbed her hands up and down my back, slowly, comfortingly.

"I miss her," I whispered. "I miss her too much, Karlie. I can't do this, it hurts and I don't want it to hurt."

"I know, baby, I know," from her voice, I could hear hints of ache and sorrow and tears, and I held her tightly. "But just—," she pulled away, took my face in her big hands and pursed her lips. This proximity reminded me of the first time she reassured me, back in the forest, and I shook with another wave of sobs. "—just hold on, okay, baby? Hold on."

And I held on. For her, for me. For Abigail.

I held on.  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_The day after_  
_14 September, 2018_

  
I never knew losing somebody could hurt so much.

The hospital hadn't discharged me yet, therefore I had to go back there after the funeral. _The funeral_. It was still surreal; that Abigail was now dead. That I was never going to see her again, or talk to her again, or laugh with her again. It hadn't hit me until I had finally put on an hospital gown, laid down on the dull white sheets of the bed, and stared at the ceiling. Karlie had decided to spend the night with me, along with Selena, but while the singer was talking with the doctors outside my room, my best friend had gone to the cafeteria of the hospital to buy something to drink. I was alone, trapped inside four white walls and the shrilling memories of the plane crash flashing at the forefront of my mind.

It was all so unfair; starting from the disaster, to the week and a half that we've all spent in the woods, to the horrible consequences of it all. Abigail dying, me losing a leg, and the obvious PTSD that the victims are obliged to keep. I wanted to go back in time, to tell the pilot that we should have waited a few more hours, to leave the day after. I wish I could have had more time with Abigail, had I known that those were the last hours that I was going to spend with her. I wish the headache that I have now could go away, and let me remember all the beautiful memories that I have of Abigail, instead of underlying the bad ones.

I didn't realize I was crying until everything became blurry, and the ringing in my ears became almost deafening. The scar of my stump hurt, and I felt the air in my lungs slip away, run away from me as I gripped the bars of the hospital bed and turned my back to the sliding doors of my room. The voices of the doctors mingled with Selena's worried one, but it sounded fuzzy and so far away from me. I closed my eyes shut, silent tears trailing down the slope of my cheeks. My hand trembled, as I closed it into a fist and held it close to my chest. I clenched my jaw and gritted my teeth as I widened my lips. It hurt. Everything hurt. Physically. Mentally. Everything became too much.

"Make it stop."

It was a whisper, a plead, but no one heard a thing. I started rocking back and forth, slowly, then more harshly. The hand gripping the bars of the bed made a loud noise, as I pushed my head further into the hard pillow. I cried, quiet sobs escaping from my lips as I shuffled under the covers.

"Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!"

The more I said those three words, the more my voice got louder and louder. And the more I kept my eyes closed, the more the plane crash seemed to haunt my mind. It all came back; the stinging grass under my legs, the throbbing pain of my calf, the cold and the shivers. The unsettling noise of the ravens cawing, my pain filled screams, Karlie yelling in the middle of the night while trying to chase away the hungry wolves. My bone protruding from my right leg, the open, bleeding wound on Karlie's forehead, the bright light of the morning sun, the crimson blood, the various pieces of the plane scattered all over the place. And the smell of puke, of flesh, of pee, and of blood invading our nostrils. It all came back.

"Make it stop!"

I was going crazy. My voice attracted the doctors' attention, and I felt firm and strong hands grip my shoulders and push my back against the mattress, trying to keep me still from wriggling. I heard the faint sound of voices, but the words didn't reach my brain. I heard Karlie's panicked voice inside my head, telling me to hold on because the rescuers were going to find us soon, that we were not going to die in the middle of the woods. Behind my closed eyelids, I saw her face, stained with dried blood, begging me to stay with her.

"Make it stop! Make it stop! Make _it _stop!"

I was yelling, and crying, and screaming, and squirming. I was trapped. Abigail was dead, and this was not a _dream_ I could wake up from. This was _real_.

"Miss Swift, I need you to take a deep breath and calm down,"

I kept writhing, kept attempting to break free from the hands that were gripping my shoulders, my hips, and my wrists. I kept saying those words, over and over, as if I were trying to convince myself that sooner or later, it was _really_ going to stop.

"Miss Swift, please—,"

"Make it stop, please, make it _stop_,"

I was imploring, no longer screaming and furiously wriggling. I cried like a baby, continuously hitting my head against the pillow. And then, I felt a prick in my arm, a crippling, cold sensation running through my body. The sounds surrounding me almost vanished, my face lolling from side to side as my eyes lazily scanned the room. When my head turned towards the sliding doors, I saw Selena, standing outside beside Karlie and squeezing her shoulder. Karlie was looking back at me, lips turned downwards in a sorry frown and eyes filled with pain. But then, she lowered her head, a tear rolling down her cheek, and turned her back towards me.

That was the last thing I saw, before I fell into a deep slumber.   
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Hours later_  
_15 September, 2018_

  
When I woke up, I was expecting to see the darkness of the forest, to be invaded by the smell of oil, and to hear the howling of wolves. Instead, I was welcomed with the sight of my best friend sleeping on the chair next to my bed, her hand gripping my limp one, and the clock in front of me telling me that it was past midnight. The hospital's smell was dull, and the faint sound of the beeping monitor beside me was almost lulling me back to sleep. But I squeezed Karlie's hand, and she immediately woke up. Groggily, she sat up straight, tired, green eyes looking at my pale face stained with dry tears. Compassion swam all over her face, as she brought my hand up to her lips and kissed it gently. She caressed my cheeks, lovingly, and I leaned in her comforting touch. The hospital was silent, there were a few nurses outside, one sitting behind the desk right in front of my room. I didn't know how long I was asleep for, but it didn't matter.

Karlie stood up, and thinking that she was going to go back home now that I was okay, I gripped her wrist, frightened. I whimpered, looking up at her, but she faintly smiled. She stroked my tousled hair, and smiled at me, doing her best not to tear up. The corner of my lips slightly turned upwards, and Karlie bent down to kiss my forehead. Her lips lingered for a little while, the only sound in the room being the beeping of the monitor. It was strange; hearing my heartbeat echo within these four walls. It was calm, peaceful, nothing like I had expected.

Karlie silently lied down next to me, wrapped a lazy arm around my shoulder and let me cuddle up to her. It was soothing, the smell of lavender shampoo and the constant rise and fall of her chest. It made me feel safe, her embrace my refuge, and I held onto her a little bit tighter.

We didn't need words to fill the silence; we just lived in the moment, knowing that I needed someone to care about me and hold me. And so she did just that; pecked the slightly bruised skin of my cheek and gave my head a gentle nuzzle.

And everything was okay in the world.

Everything was okay.  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Eight months later_  
_4 June, 2019_

  
"I wish we could be together right now."

Those were the words that Karlie said to me, this morning, speaking from the other side of the world. She was in Paris for a project, and she's been there since the beginning of June. Ten months have almost passed since the plane crash, and I have yet to step inside an aircraft. I say that I don't have to go anywhere. If I have to work, I can go to the studio here in New York City, and if I have to go visit my mom, my bodyguard can drive me there, the same goes for Los Angeles or other cities inside the USA. I still haven't got the guts to fly again, because whenever I see an airplane my heart starts to beat faster, and the ghost of pain haunts my stump for hours and hours. Karlie has been braver than me, already getting on a plane almost three weeks ago. She said that it had been difficult, that she had been really nervous, but the relief that she had felt when landing had been incomparable, almost making her cry in the middle of the airport.

But today I missed her.

Even if she's been gone for barely five days, I missed her. I missed her presence, her smile, her gaze, her touch. Her everything.

And I had to see her.

But now, standing in the middle of the JFK Airport, a bodyguard behind me, my luggage with him, I regretted it. The sound of airplanes taking off, of people frantically trying not to lose their flight, and the sight of families parting ways and softly crying, made my breath hitch in the back of my throat and my heartbeat pick up the pace.

"Miss Swift?"

Everyone that passed by stared, perhaps recognizing me as the superstar, or maybe just seeing a woman in their late 20s internally freaking out because she had to take a plane. I was wearing a simple outfit; loose peach pink sweatshirt and grey ripped jeans. The tips of my wavy hair were now a bright pink, and I remember coloring them one week ago, when I had gotten drunk with Cara and Selena and Karlie was away. It had been fun, and my girlfriend had reacted surprisingly good at the new change.

"Miss Swift, are you okay?"

My bodyguard now stood beside me, my dazed eyes now looking up at his sturdy body. He didn't seem worried, but judging from his question and the voice he had used, I knew he was slightly concerned.

"Yeah," I replied vaguely. I touched my forehead, glancing at the big screen where flights were shown. "Yeah, I—I'm okay. Let's go."

We walked to my gate, where the few people that were taking the same flight immediately noticed me and stared. No one dared to approach me. I saw some of them stare at my hidden prosthesis, and anxiety followed shortly after. My bodyguard did all the work; showed the assistant my passport and gave them my ticket. She hid her surprise well as she stared at the name on the passport, but recovered and told me to have a good flight.

As my bodyguard led the way, I started to get _really _anxious. My palms were sweaty, even though I kept on rubbing them against my pants, and my breath was audible enough for the man in front of me to turn around and face me with an unreadable expression. I knew he wanted to once again ask me if I were okay, but he didn't utter a word.

My breath hitched as soon as we walked down the stairs and finally arrived outside, where dozens of passengers were getting on the plane. It was _huge_. The aircraft was bigger than my normal private jet, but now that I haven't seen one in months, it looked bigger with each step that I took towards it. The assistants had been kind enough to let my bodyguard accompany me to the stairs that were connected to the plane, but then I had to go by myself, because he didn't have a ticket. And I wanted to see Karlie. Alone.

"Are you going to be okay, Miss Swift?" he asked me, his voice louder in order for me to hear him over the sound of the plane.

I knew I was lying when I replied, "Yes, don't worry!"

I ascended the stairs, and when I looked back, my bodyguard was still there, watching me protectively. I sighed, entered the aircraft, and greeted the flight attendants. Their smiles were too big, too fake, but one of them actually led me to my seat, probably remembering what I had lived ten months ago.

The air in my lungs decided to leave as soon as I sat down on the center seat. The woman to my left, the one that sat beside the corridor, didn't seem fazed by my presence and kept on listening to whatever was playing in her headphones. But the one that faced the window greeted me with a polite smile and didn't seem to recognize me. I have always flied private, and being inside a public plane made me realize that I needed to buy another private jet as soon as possible. The space was small, and I felt trapped in my own body as I tried to get comfortable. My long legs didn't help, because I just wanted to lay them but there was not enough room for them.

When the engine started and growled, my hand instantly gripped the leather armrests and I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes, hoping that it would make the dizziness go away. But all I saw was bright flashbacks of the plane crash; the bone protruding from my calf, the blood on Karlie's forehead, the sound of my shrilling screams and the howling of the wolves. I recalled the tiredness I had felt, the pain, the loneliness of it all. I opened my eyes, my chest rapidly rising and falling. While the flight attendants showed how to behave if the plane ever crashed, the only person that noticed my panicked breath was the woman sitting to my right. She wasn't old, she was perhaps fifteen years older than me, but nevertheless she placed a hand over mine and asked, "Don't worry, darling. This plane is safe and you don't need to overthink the possibility of it falling."

I almost laughed in her face, almost told her that I had, in fact, been in a plane crash. But out of politeness, I turned towards her, gave her my best reassuring smile, and nodded.

Then we had to fasten our seatbelts, and when the hostesses made sure that everyone was comfortable and with their seatbelts on, the plane started moving and shaking. I knew it had to move to the runway, but the more the aircraft moved, the more my breath quickened. I almost wanted to unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of that plane, but I knew that I was stuck here. That the next time I was going to breathe fresh air, I was going to be in Paris.

"The takeoff is terrible, but then the rest of the ride is quite alright," the woman averted her eyes from the window just to look at me with a comforting gaze. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry, my heart beating quickly against my chest.

When I glanced outside, I saw that we were already on the runway, and I knew it was a matter of seconds before we were going to be flying. "I can't do this," I muttered, and I could barely hear myself; my ears were ringing.

"It's going to be okay," the woman reassured me. When she once again placed her hand over mine on the armrest, she didn't take it away and kept it there. I thought that it was a kind gesture, but I didn't want to be there.

"I need to get out of here," the more I talked, the more I sounded anxious and out of breath. "I don't want to be here. I don't want to be here."

"Hey, you're okay, everything's okay."

I was about to get up and leave, but then the plane started moving again and it was moving _fast_. The force of gravity kept me glued to the seat, and I was about to cry, the flashbacks in my brain getting louder and louder, until it all vanished and the plane was finally flying. I distinctly felt when the aircraft took off, when it suddenly detached from the ground.

We were flying.

The plane was flying. I was flying.

We were in the air, and just when we were high enough to finally unfasten our seatbelts, I got up and hurriedly walked to the bathroom. The room was small, barely one person could fit, but I knelt before the toilet and waited. I felt like throwing up, but nothing came out. Not even a tear, or an exasperated sob. Nothing.

And it was then, with the sound of the engine beneath my body and the sensation of my ears blocking, with the cold floor against my legs and the reflection of my pale face on the mirror, that I realized: I was flying again.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_The day after_  
_5 June, 2019_

  
The look on her face as soon as she opened the door to her hotel room and saw me, standing breathless at her doorstep with tear stained cheeks, was priceless.

I immediately fell into her arms, and hugged her until we couldn't breathe. When she called my name, her voice was so soft and just sweet, bewildered, that I tattooed this moment inside my brain.

"You're here,"

I smiled against her shoulder and tightened my hold around her neck. "I'm here."

"But how—," Karlie pulled away and held my hips. "—how did you get here?"

I knew she knew the answer to this dumb question, but I answered it anyway. "I got on a _fucking _plane, Karlie!" I exclaimed, excited and smiling wide. "I got on a plane and I cried tears of fucking joy because it didn't crash!"

She let out an emotional chuckle and pulled me in a second embrace. "Oh my God, you're really here. This is really happening,"

I jumped up and down, unable to contain my happiness. "This is really happening."

"And oh my God—," she pulled away and pointed at me with a surprised smile. "You got on a fucking plane!"

"I got on a fucking plane!"

We laughed like it was the last time, and kept on clinging to each other's body. The second time we broke our embrace, I cupped her cheeks and softly kissed her. We both smiled in our kiss, and the way she held me close against her body made me smile wider. I hugged her again, just to feel her figure against mine, and loved the sweet, natural scent of her body as it mingled with the expensive smell of her hotel room.

"I love you," I whispered, closing my eyes and smiling with my whole soul.

I heard Karlie quietly chuckle, a quick peck to my neck, below my ear, and then, "I love you, too, baby."

I realized then that we were still standing at her threshold, but I didn't mind. We both enjoyed each other's warmth, her hands caressing my hair and mine sliding along her back. Thinking about everything now, how we got here, what we've lost and what we've achieved, made me tear up.

"Abigail is dead."

Saying it out loud made it more real, more cruel, even though it's been ten months.

Karlie held me tighter and didn't say a word. She kissed my shoulder and kept on hugging me, as if we had all the time in the world. In that moment, I loved her. I loved her with every single cell of my body, with every single heartbeat that made my heart shake and breathe life into my lungs. I loved her, for being who she is and for being there when I needed her the most. I loved her, and I loved every moment I spent with her; I loved every giggle, every late night conversation, every baking session, every fight, every tear, every sigh of pleasure. I loved her. And although the plane crash had been devastating, had turned our lives upside down and had shaken up our world, something good still came out of it. It made me realize that life is too short to live it with a man you don't love anymore. It is too short to waste it on paranoias. It is too short and sometimes too evil. Life brings you down, but it can also lift you up. It chews you and then it spits you out. But surrounding yourself with people who care about you, making a shield of love, of happiness and delight, can make it all better, bearable. And the most difficult part of all of this, of this disaster, was healing. It was all the tears that we've wept, all the cries that we've let out but no one heard, all the giggles when we were drunk on euphoria. It was the hope that got us through day after day, taking it one at a time, and wishing it could get better. That at the end of this gloomy tunnel there was a slight flicker of light. And it was that flicker, that made it all worth it. Even when everything was hard, and we knew nothing but despair swimming in our souls; even when everything was falling apart.

I'm glad that, after all the hardships, after all the trials and tribulations, Karlie was still there, standing by my side no matter what happened.

And we had each other to hold onto, and that was enough for me.

That was enough. 


End file.
